


Killed the She-Wolf's Pet

by megumijaya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 21:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1319476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megumijaya/pseuds/megumijaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor Clegane rode the boy down, technically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killed the She-Wolf's Pet

**Author's Note:**

> 'Cause we really don't know what exactly happened.

 

 _Of course I had to kill the boy_. Sandor Clegane- or as most know him, the Hound- was saddling his horse to chase down a boy he’s doesn’t even know. Stranger, the blasphemous named horse, was a large black courser that was as dangerous as his master.

When Sandor was summoned by Queen Cersei, he wasn’t expecting to be bided to do this.  He expected nothing more than cold weather and distasteful Northern people when coming to Winterfell, but now down in the Trident is where the real problems start. The King and the Lord of Winterfell were close childhood friends everyone knew this, but that didn’t help none when his precious son was too weak to fight off a girl and some lowly boy.

 _The Lord of Winterfell with his Tully family living in their buggering fairytale should have stayed in their fucking Winter Wonderland; honor is blinding the damn fools from the truth._ It seemed everywhere he went he was in sight of one of the three Starks. As he was leading Stranger into the forest he could see the eldest, prettiest daughter wailing to her father. _Sansa Stark._ Sandor remembered their introductions and the fright he caused on most of the Northerners. _Stupid little girl._ Anyone could tell she was lying but didn’t want to offend the Lord and the King.

“Hound, the Butcher’s boy went running that way.” Ser Boros of the Kingsguard pointed northward.

“I don’t need your fucking help.” Sandor all but growled at the knight and rode Stranger in that direction.

The boy wasn’t that fast, in fact Sandor spied the boy hunching over his knees breathing harshly. Sandor didn’t get off his horse when he spoke out to the boy.

“Given up already, boy?” Mycah, the boy, snapped his head toward the Hound and gasped.

“They sent you after me?” Mycah stood up straight; his grey Northern eyes were wide and filled with terror. Whether it was at Sandor’s scars or the final realization he was about to die, Mycah turned and ran farther from Sandor.

“Running’s not going to save you.” The Hound jumped into a gallop again, he could still see the boy’s red head moving up and down.

The Hound was thankfully for having such a skilled horse that can leap and dodge large trees and rocks that were hidden under the long grass. Watching the boy run, pathetically, he thought of the other men looking for the youngest Stark girl. _That one’s named Arya, a real Northern She- wolf, had her direwolf attack Joffrey._

Suddenly he couldn’t wait anymore; he wanted to get this over with. Sandor rode up closer behind the boy ready to cut him down. Mycah, couldn’t have been ever more uncoordinated then, fell and landed with a loud crack. Sandor looked down and saw the boy’s head twisted in an abnormal way. His chin was bent up behind his left shoulder. His neck looked elongated, the boy’s ugly red hair and freckled face was practically all turned up towards Sandor.

 _His hair's nothing like Sansa’s, she has a lovely auburn color at shines in the sun._ The boy died in such a simple and painless death and Sandor knew the Lannisters- Cersei and her lion cub- wouldn’t be pleased. So Sandor lifted his sword high behind his head and swiftly cut the boy nearly in half. Mycah’s blood, still warm, stained his clothes and dirt. Sandor bent down and grabbed the butcher’s dead son’s body and slung it across Stranger’s back. Sandor didn’t care much about the blood ruining his saddle almost all of clothes carried blood stains.

Sandor jumped in the front of Stranger’s saddle and rode back to the dreary inn. Making it to the courtyard of the inn, Sandor met up with the other Lannister and Stark men from the hunt.

“You caught ‘im then, Hound?” A knight, Sandor didn’t bother to learn the name of, asked.

“No I’m just lugging a big bloody bag of dirt behind me. Seven Hells, I thought you had to have some smarts to be knighted.” Sandor scowled and rode in to the yard.

The first person he saw coming up to him was bloody Lord Eddard Stark. _Now what?_

“No sign of your daughter, Hand,” the Hound said, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet.” Sandor pushed Mycah’s body on the dirt ground.

The Lord took one look at the boy’s dead body, once realizing whom it was; the Lord’s face grimaced. “You rode him down.”

Sandor’s helm covered most of his face but his grey eyes looked hard at Lord Eddard, “He ran.” Sandor began to laugh, “But not very fast.”

Sandor trotted off to the stables to wash and feed his courser knowing the day was to begin early and only in a few hours.


End file.
